


One Fine Wire

by texaswatermelon



Category: Los Hombres de Paco
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texaswatermelon/pseuds/texaswatermelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Silvia's temper was as fiery as her hair.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Fine Wire

The silence was unbearable, pressing down on her like a weight that refused to be lifted.  If Silvia minded, she didn’t let on; her body stayed angled towards the car door, eyes gazing stonily out the window.  Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, as though she were guarding herself from something. 

Pepa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  She hated this.  Silvia’s temper was as fiery as her hair, and though Pepa was usually mildly amused by it all, the redhead was in a particularly vile mood today.  She couldn’t understand Silvia’s ability to hold a grudge for hours, days even.  What was worse, Pepa was constantly doing or saying something to set her off.  She could never seem to tell if what she was doing was acceptable until it was already too late and Silvia was spouting off lividly and ignoring her for the rest of the day.  It was nerve-wracking.

A quick glance at the gloomy warehouse sitting several yards away yielded the same results as the last five times Pepa had checked.  Don Lorenzo had insider information from one of Carlos Ramirez’s men that the drug lord had set up operations in the warehouse, but until they had valid evidence, they couldn’t very well go storming in on the place.  So far, nothing had even connected Ramirez to the place, but Don Lorenzo was adamant; he’d had people surveying the place all week, and today happened to be Pepa and Silvia’s turn.

With a bored sigh, Pepa turned her attention back towards the fuming coroner beside her.  She could by the slight tick in Silvia’s jaw that the redhead felt Pepa’s gaze on her, but she didn’t move otherwise.  Pepa rolled her eyes.

“Are you really not going to talk to me this entire time?” she asked tiredly.  Silvia remained unchanged.  Pepa blew out a breath, her bangs waving wildly in the process only to fall right back into place.  “Look, I’m sorry.  I don’t know how many times I can tell you this until you forgive me.”

The icy glare that was directed at her now was almost worse than the silence.  “Forgive you?  Do you think apologizing is going to be enough to make up for what you did?” Silvia asked hotly.

“What did you want me to do?” Pepa exclaimed, throwing her hands up.  “I promised Paco I wouldn’t tell a soul about Lucas, not even you.  It could have ruined everything.”

Silvia turned fully in her seat now to face Pepa, eyes blazing angrily, face contorted with furious passion.  If Pepa wasn’t so afraid that Silvia was going to smack her and walk away from the stakeout, she probably would have found it slightly arousing.

“We don’t keep secrets from each other, Pepa!  Especially not about things that concern us both.  Sara is as much my niece as she is yours.  I had every right to know that Lucas was still alive.  He was my ex-husband, for God’s sake!  I did an autopsy on his ‘ashes,’ I identified his single tooth!  Did you think I would betray you to Salgado?”

“Of course not, Silvia!” Pepa cried, incensed she would even think such a thing.  Silvia merely stared at her, demanding an explanation she’d already heard three times that day.

Lucas was alive.  It wasn’t such a hard fact to believe; it was very Lucas-like to stage his own death and then run away with Sara.  They’d all seen him this morning on the video link.  The problem came when Silvia realized that Pepa had already known. Paco had been overwhelmed by the entire situation and, not one to let things drop, Pepa had coaxed the truth out of him.  Afterwards, of course, she had to promise not to tell anyone.  Silvia knew this, obviously, but she was angry and hurt at not being let in on the truth sooner, and she had decided that she was going to be incredibly stubborn about it.

“Look, Silvia, you know I wanted to tell you.  More than anything, I hate keeping secrets from you.  But I couldn’t.  You know that, too.”

This was not quite the groveling response that she was looking for.  Silvia huffed and turned back away from Pepa.  The brunette sighed again and flopped back into her seat, staring back out at the warehouse.  With all of this arguing, they’d likely missed something important and then Don Lorenzo would have her head.

A slight movement near the corner of the warehouse caught her eye, and Pepa realized that someone was standing there, waiting.  His foot was tapping impatiently and he looked slightly nervous, dragging on a cigarette as though it were his only source of oxygen.  Pepa sat up straight in her seat, nudging Silvia to look.  They watched carefully as the man checked his watch, made a very brief phone call, and stepped out of the shadows.

No less than a minute later, a big black truck came around the corner.  As it stopped, two men got out of the cab, and several more hopped out of the bed.  The man in the passenger seat was definitely Ramirez.  The girls watched as he and his posse entered the building.

“Radio Don Lorenzo.  I’m going in,” Pepa instructed, car door already half open.

“You’re not going by yourself,” Silvia argued.

“We don’t have time to wait for backup,” Pepa insisted.  Silvia scoffed and followed her out of the car.  They stared at each other over the hood.

“If you’re not waiting, then I’m going with you,” Silvia told her.  She pulled out her phone and talked to Don Lorenzo for a moment.  It sounded like he was telling her to stay put, but she made some quick reassurances before hanging up.  She glanced back up at Pepa defiantly before leading the way towards the warehouse.  Pepa stared after her for several seconds, wondering what the hell she’d gotten herself into with this girl.

As they neared the warehouse door, their steps became more cautious.  There was a good chance that Ramirez would have guards at the entrances, if not surrounding the building itself.  The outside appeared to be deserted, however, and after a brief glance at Silvia, Pepa shoved the door open as quietly as she could.

There was an eerie silence cast down over the interior of the warehouse.  None of Ramirez’s men were in sight, but Pepa knew they had to be close.  The warehouse floor was stacked with crates and boxes, the contents of which she could only guess at.  They came to a split in the crates; one side led to another storage unit, and the other down a corridor, presumably to offices.

“I’m going this way,” Silvia informed her, heading off towards the corridor.  She was gone before Pepa could say anything, and the brunette growled in annoyance.  This stupid argument that they were having was making Silvia brash.  Still, they would cover more ground if they split up and Pepa assumed that it wouldn’t be too long before Don Lorenzo sent people out after him.  He wouldn’t allow his precious daughter to put herself in danger for long.

The second storage space was filled with similar items as the last.  Pepa crept past the boxes carefully, taking caution so as not to jostle anything.  She couldn’t hear anyone where she was, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t hear her.  Stealth and surprise were her two best friends at the moment.

There was a sound, a slight scuffing and a brush of material.  Or so Pepa thought.  She froze in her tracks, gun poised to take anyone down that came at her.  But as soon as she was listening for it, all noise stopped once more.  She could only hear the slight creaking of the light fixtures overhead.  She began further once more.

At the end of the aisle, she reached a clearing.  There was a wide-open space where many of the boxes and crates had been pushed off to the side, perhaps to allow a vehicle in through the garage-like door.  Pepa stopped, but didn’t dare walk out into the open.  If anyone was watching her, they’d have a clear shot from there.

There was a grunt from behind her, and before Pepa could move she felt herself being knocked into by a hard body.  She yelled furiously; the sound echoed throughout the space.  Her head hit the floor with dangerous force and she could just barely make out the sound of her gun skittering away as she closed her eyes against the pain.

A fist connected with her face and Pepa groaned loudly.  She tried to throw the grizzly man off of her, but her head was spinning slightly and he was considerably stronger than she was.  There was a sudden gunshot, and Pepa thought that the man may have shot her for a moment.  But as he rolled away to avoid the onslaught of bullets, she saw Silvia running down the aisle of boxes toward them.

There were several other men running towards them now, Ramirez among them.  All of them had guns and Pepa had the very vague perception that they’d walked into an immensely deadly trap before she noticed Silvia’s hand extended towards her.  As she made a grab for it, the man that Silvia had shot at came at them again and Silvia had to duck out of the way of his swinging fists.  He attempted to tackled her and Pepa rolled over to grab her gun before Ramirez and his men made Swiss cheese of them both.

From outside, she could hear the faint sound of sirens, of car doors slamming shut and men shouting.  Pepa fired off a few rounds in the general direction of several of the advancing men, hoping to attract their allies to their position.  One of the men dropped with a pained yell; the others dove out of the way of the stray bullets.

For the first time in what felt like hours, Pepa was on her feet again.  She ran towards where Silvia was trying in vain to fight off the crazy tackler, clocking him in the side of the head with her pistol.  He stumbled out of the way, but just as Pepa was about to grab Silvia’s hand and run, another of the men started shooting at them.  Realizing that her best option was to draw them away from the open area, Pepa yelled for Silvia to split up and ran across the floor towards a pile of boxes.

She heard gunshots behind her, following.  Silvia was still near the clearing by the sounds of it, but she could hear Montoya and Povedilla shouting, signaling her arrival.  She knew that Silvia would be safe now.  As for herself, however, whoever was following her was painfully persistent.  No matter what twists and turns she took, they were right behind her, feet pounding and breath heavy.  Pepa was tiring herself.  If she wanted this to end anytime soon, she would have to find the clearing again, or else turn around and face her pursuer.

There was a small space, a section where the surrounding boxes had been placed haphazardly and created a little pocket.  Pepa ducked into it, expecting her attacker to corner her, where she could hopefully fire off a few shots first and take him out.  He never came, however.  Instead, there was a small click and the sound of metal rolling across the floor.  Pepa looked down to see a small cylindrical device entering her space, stopping just in front of her feet.  Her assailant’s footsteps were retreating in the other direction with a fever.  Pepa jumped the gap between the boxes that opened into the small space and ran for dear life.

Silvia screamed as an explosion went off in the corner of the warehouse, in the direction that Pepa had run earlier.  Boxes and crates blew in every direction, splinters of wood and bits of packing material shot up into the air and rained back down to the floor.  Half of the warehouse was set alight.

Silvia scrambled up from the place on the floor where Montoya had pulled her down just as the grenade went off, screaming Pepa’s name.  He made a feeble attempt to stop her, but she was already off.  Montoya instructed Quique to stay with the prisoners while he and Povedilla sprinted after her.

The fire made the trip considerably harder for them, but Silvia darted between the rows of cargo with surprising decisiveness.  She listened hard for any sound, a sign that Pepa was okay, but all she heard was the crackling roar of the rapidly expanding fire.  The boxes were like an all you can eat buffet for the flames, and had she not been so worried about finding Pepa, Silvia might have been worried about their ability to make it out alive.

By chance, the redhead caught sight of a red sweater out of the corner of her eye.  She rushed over to it, kneeling down next to the crumpled form of Pepa.  She was unconscious, bruised and burned, with a few deep cuts from the wooden shrapnel.  Silvia rolled her body over so that she lay flat.  She was pale and definitely in bad shape.

Montoya and Povedilla skidded to a halt just behind them.  Montoya cursed loudly, bending down to appraise Pepa’s wounds.  He instructed Povedilla to call an ambulance before placing his arms under Pepa’s body to scoop her up.  Silvia grabbed his arm, eyes wild.

“We have to get her out of here,” Montoya told her.  “This place is going up in flames and if there are any more explosives, we’re all dead.  There’s an ambulance coming.  She’ll be okay.”

They exited by way of the large garage door.  Silvia’s feet barely carried her; she followed after Montoya mindlessly, eyes never leaving Pepa’s frail body.  She remembered that she’d been fighting with Pepa only half an hour earlier and her throat swelled with despair.  If Pepa died now, their last shared words would be ones of anger.  Silvia would never recover.

Povedilla caught her as she fell.  He slid to the ground gently, wrapping his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest.  He looked up at Montoya, still standing with Pepa hanging limply in his arms.  They waited like that until the ambulance came.

xx

Pepa’s eyes fluttered open slowly.  They felt heavy and reluctant to move, as though someone had taped them down with Scotch tape.  She breathed in deeply, the smell of sterilization filtering through her nostrils.  It made her slightly sick to her stomach.

There was a dull pain throbbing in the back of her head and all of her limbs felt like they were dead.  Her skin twinged like someone had poured very hot water over her and the heat was starting to dissipate from it.  She coughed, and the sound was obnoxious to her own ears, but it also caught the attention of the person sitting beside her.

“Pepa?” Silvia asked softly. 

Pepa turned her head slowly.  Silvia was sitting so close to the bed that she was practically on top of it.  Her hair was a tousled mess and her eyes were red and purple at the same time, as though she’d been crying for hours and hadn’t slept at all because of it.  Pepa realized vaguely that she was in a hospital, and that Silvia was at her bedside, waiting for her.  Praying for her.

“Hola,” she whispered harshly.  The word scratched against her throat.  She needed water, but she didn’t feel like drinking.

Silvia breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  She rested her head down on the bed, just next to Pepa’s hip.  Pepa could hear her muffled sniffle through the bed sheet.  She lifted her hand with some difficulty and rested it atop Silvia’s head, noticing how soft it felt, even in its messy state.  Sometimes Pepa was surprised by how easily the little things melted her heart.

“Shh, redhead.  Don’t cry.”

Silvia looked up at her through bleary eyes and Pepa let her hand fall to one tearstained cheek.  Her thumb rubbed gently against the skin there and she breathed deeply.  Whatever her injuries, she could almost feel them healing from the inside out just from this contact.

The redhead leaned down and kissed her, much more forcefully than Pepa was expecting.  Silvia’s torso pressed down on her chest, which was apparently bruised… or broken, or just completely turned to mush.  The sudden sharp pain forced its way through the morphine pumping into her veins and Pepa gasped into Silvia’s mouth, which was currently consuming her own with some newfound passion and fury.  Silvia pulled away quickly, looking very apologetic.  She reached out and ran a finger across one of the cuts on Pepa’s forehead, which had required seven stitches.

“Lo siento,” she whispered quietly, searching Pepa’s eyes deeply for some sign of forgiveness.  Pepa knew it wasn’t for the pain she’d just caused; she was apologizing for the fight.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, princess,” Pepa assured her.

Silvia shook her head.  “I get so stupid when I’m angry.  If I hadn’t gone off and left you alone, none of this would have happened.”

“It was a trap, Silvia.  Something would have happened.  I’d rather get myself blown up than have it happen to you, too.”

Silvia sighed and looked away.  She looked close to tears again and Pepa was determined not to see her cry anymore today.  She entwined their fingers and tugged softly, causing Silvia to look back up at her.  Grinning with as much cheer as she could muster, Pepa scooted over towards the edge of the bed, nodding for Silvia to climb in with her.  Silvia gave her a skeptical look, but Pepa merely raised an enquiring eyebrow at her.

Finally allowing herself a small smile, Silvia shook her head amusedly, but crawled up onto the bed anyway.  She laid her head on Pepa’s shoulder as lightly as she could, but the move didn’t seem to cause her any further pain, so she allowed herself to settle in fully.  Pepa kissed her softly and Silvia felt herself melt into the warm body, thanking God for the fact that it still was.

With a sigh, Pepa broke away, eyes drifting closed against her will.  She struggled to keep them open, but Silvia shushed her and told her to get some sleep.  Pepa mumbled that she would if Silvia promised to do the same before she fell into unconsciousness.  Silvia thought that as long as Pepa was beside her, she could sleep for a thousand years.


End file.
